


My circus artist

by asamandra



Series: Assassin [2]
Category: Marvel, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Dubious Consent, Forced Marriage, Implied or Off-stage Rape/Non-con, M/M, Physical Abuse, Underage Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-08
Updated: 2013-07-16
Packaged: 2017-12-14 08:12:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 25
Words: 20,650
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/834652
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/asamandra/pseuds/asamandra
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Phil is in a deep long term undercover mission and is forced to marry...</p><p> </p><p>Prequel to 'My assassin'</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Seven years earlier**

“Phil, it's good that you could come.” Morello greeted him and led him into his office behind the pawn shop. It sounded as if he'd had a choice.

“Sure. What's the problem?” Phil asked and sat down on the chair in front of his desk. Dario Morello grinned when he sat down as well. 

“Phil, we... Paul, Simon and me... we have an assignment for you.” The older man leaned back and folded his hands over his paunch.

“Assignment? What kind of assignment?” 

“We bargain now for three months with these circus freaks and now we're up for a deal. Problem is, we don't trust them and they don't trust us.”

“Yeah, that's an understatement.” Phil cocked his head and looked at the man. 

“But we finally could agree on a bond to... to cement the trust between them and us.” He smiled at him and Phil thought about a rabbit in front of a snake.

“Okay. What... what kind of bond do you have in mind?” He was sure he wouldn't like the answer. 

“A personal bond. A marriage.” Phil lifted one eyebrow and waited for the man to continue. 

“The 'problem' is, it's Barton's brother. That archer-kid from the show.”

“He doesn't look like he's legal age.” Phil said and ignored the fact that Morello still grinned this smug.

“Oh, Trick Shot said he's eighteen. He's old enough to marry.” 

“Okay. And why do you tell me all this?” He asked now and Morello's grin broadened. 

“Phil, my friend. We need someone to marry him. We know about your... preferences and due to the fact that I'm already married and Paul... well, he's Paul, he doesn't marry... we decided you should be the one.” 

“God, Dario! Are you kidding? That guy is a kid. He could be my son and you want me to marry him?” 

“Simon is of the same opinion as me and Paul. Phil, we need you. You're third in command and it's your duty to do this. The family counts on you.” 

“Dario, please. There has to be...” 

“Phil, you worked this hard to get this position. You're a competent man and we would hate to have to replace you.” He smirked and Phil gritted his teeth. He was right. Three years and six month of his time on this assignment would go down the drain. 

“Okay. Fine.” He sighed and tried not to glare. 

“Good, Phil. I knew we could rely on you.” Phil forced a smile on his face and rose. “Barton said, you should meet him this evening after the show. They want to talk to you.”

“Okay.” He left without another word. Outside of the office he leaned against the wall. God, a marriage with that kid? They are nuts. Totally nuts. He pinched the bridge of his nose. Okay, Phil. You can do that. You go and talk to this Barton guy and persuade him that you're not the right man.

“Everything okay, Phil?” It was Albert, the shop assistant who was on his way to the safe in the room beside the office.

“Yes, everything is fine. Just... just a headache.” The older man nodded and opened the door to Phil's right. With another sigh he left the shop.


	2. Chapter 2

This evening Phil was in the show. He wanted to see him. He'd seen their show earlier but he didn't pay too much attention to the acts. When he finally came into the ring the crowd clapped enthusiastically. And they were right. “The amazing Hawkeye” was one of the four main acts and the audience loved him. 

His costume was purple and... odd. Dark purple leggins and a sleeveless shirt with musketeer boots, some sort of a rag thrown over it and a purple mask with a big H on top. In addition he wore fingerless gloves and armguards. And it was glittering. 

He started slowly with a few easier tricks but when he shot six arrows at the same time and they built a perfect circle on the target the people started to cheer. His acts got more and more complicated such as an assistant on a moving wheel and he shot at her blindfolded without hurting her, just traced her contour onto the surface with arrows. But his finish was the most impressive thing Phil had ever seen. 

He removed his boots with a grin because some people in the audience knew what would follow and started to cheer very loudly now. He laid his bow down on a platform and then he made a handstand behind his bow on the platform, went down to an elbow stand, bent his body like a contortionist to grab the bow with one of his feet and with the other he managed to nock an arrow, drew his bow, aimed and hit bull's eye. And he repeated it thrice with the same result. Then he put his bow down, placed his feet beside his head and rose in a complicated movement. Phil wasn't sure if he had a spine but he wouldn't place a bet on it. 

The crowd clapped enthusiastically and the young man bowed and shot finally a trick arrow up under the ceiling where it exploded and with some sort of purple indoor fireworks he disappeared.

Phil left after his act and went to the guy at the entrance to ask him for Barton. The thug asked him for his name and looked at a list. Obviously his name was on it and so he showed him the way to the trailers. 

“You're Coulson?” A young man, early twenties, asked when he opened the door he just knocked at.

“Yes. And you are?” Phil asked and looked at him. He wasn't tall but muscular and he reminded Phil of a mean ferret. 

“Barney. Come in.” He stepped aside and saw two other men sitting at the small table, looking at him. He knew the two. Trick Shot and Swordsman. These were the guys he had contact with. He never met Barton before but he was the new star in the 'evil guy business'. He'd heard a lot of him lately. 

“So, Morello sent you. You know what is expected of you?” The Swordsman asked with his french accent. 

“Yes, but I want to know why?” He asked and the two masked men exchanged a glance. Then it was Trick Shot who answered.

“It was Morello's idea, not ours. He wanted to have one of us tied to your family. He said, then we could trust each other, because we're then members of the family. He didn't tell you?” 

“No.” Phil shook his head. “Not with these words.” 

“Okay. I'll go, get him.” Barton said and left the trailer. Phil sat with the two other men and waited but no one said a word. 

About five minutes later Barton was back and he had the boy with him. He had changed into an old jeans and a tee and it seemed that he wanted to be somewhere else. 

“Come in.” Barton snarled and when the young man got out of his grip Phil could see some dark bruises at his arm. 

“Hey.” He nodded at Phil and leaned at the counter, his arms crossed in front of his chest.

“Clint, this is Phil Coulson.” Trick Shot said and the boy glared at the older man.

“Yeah, whatever.” He said and Phil could see him swallow hard. 

“You kidding.” Phil said and looked at the two men at the table. But they both shook their heads. 

“You expect me to marry this... this child?” He asked and looked Clint over.

“Hey.” He sounded offended. 

“He's eighteen.” Barton chipped in and threw a side glance over to his brother. 

“Maybe you should talk to Morello.” The Swordsman said and started to rise. But Phil knew that would endanger his whole mission and he worked too long and too hard to get this assholes to jail to blow his cover now. 

“Okay. Fine.” He said and pinched the bridge of his nose. And the boy swallowed again. 

“When do we...” Phil started but then Trick Shot grinned.

“Right now. We know a JP and he came over to perform your marriage.” 

“You mean right now?” Phil was shocked. 

“Why? Do you have other plans?” Trick Shot asked and cocked his head.

“I want to talk to him alone.” Phil said and gestured to the young man to follow him. With an unsure glance at his brother he left behind the older man when Barney nodded at him.

“Okay, what do you want?” The young man asked and shoved his hands deep into the pockets of his pants.

“How old are you really?” Phil asked straightforward.

“Eighteen. They told you.” He answered and his lip twitched slightly.

“You sure you want to do this?” 

The young man just shrugged and looked Phil over, once again. 

“Yeah.” He then said but Phil wasn't sure he meant what he said. He remembered the bruises on his upper arm and reached over to lift the sleeve of his shirt. There was a big purple bruise in form of a hand. 

“What's that? Did they force you?” Phil asked and searched for his eyes.

“No, that... I had a fight with one of the bouncers.” Phil wasn't convinced but he finally sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. 

“Okay. Let's do this.” He said and the boy's shoulders slumped down a bit. They entered the trailer and Phil said he was okay with it. And with a grin the Swordsman called the JP to perform the marriage.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> About his performance... got a little bit inspired by this [video](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EYyWZNgoLPU) and this [picture](http://24.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_m5jfdnpSEe1r4yah9o1_1280.jpg).


	3. Chapter 3

After his performance Clint went back to the trailer he shared with Barney. He's been told that he should change immediately, someone wants to meet him. Presumably another talent scout. Every year a few of them come to them and try to woo him away. But Swordsman, Trick Shot and Barney wouldn't let him go. Nevertheless he jogged to the trailer and stripped out of his costume. Carefully he put it on the clothes hanger and then into his locker. He didn't have much things but his bow and his costume were vital for him and his performance. No one else was allowed to touch them.

He just slipped into his jeans when the door opened and Barney came in.

“Come on, get a move on. He's waiting.” He snarled and Clint glared at him.

“Who's he? Another talent scout? Why do you even bother...” 

“No.” He interrupted him. “It's one of our associate partners.” 

“Okay. And what does he want from me?”

“You, my dear brother, will seal a deal.” And Barney's grin remembered him of this Jack Nicholson guy from the movies.

“I will seal a deal? How?” Clint frowned and stopped to look at his brother.

“That's none of your business.” 

“You say I should seal the deal. I guess it is my business now.” Clint spat and turned back to his locker.

“Trick Shot and Swordsman made a deal with a few guys and they want to form a personal bond.” 

“Okay. What's that supposed to mean. And why do you tell me all this? I'm just an artist and...”

“ _You_ are the personal bond.” 

“What?!” Clint turned back violently, his shirt in his hand and glared at Barney.

“You are going to marry.”

“My ass! I'm seventeen, I'm not...”

“No, you're eighteen in your new fake ID.”

“I... I don't marry a guy, Barney. I...”

“Shut up! I know that you're fooling around with Tommy since he and his brothers joined the circus. And I know what you do with Trick Shot and Swordsman. You are going to marry him. End of discussion.” He gestured with his hands to underline his statement.

“Yeah? What if I say no?” Clint cocked his head, his shirt still in his hand.

“You want to say no?” 

“Yes, I want to say no.” Clint glared at his brother even if he had to look up to him.

Without warning Barney backhanded him and he fell onto the bed behind him.

“Are you nuts?” Clint yelled but Barney was on him and he got a few punches in his ribs and doubled over. 

“You do what we say, you got me? And we say you marry this guy and if you know what's good for you, you don't say no. You got me?” He had grabbed his hair and leaned over him to scream at him.

“Yeah, okay. I get it.” Clint pressed through his teeth. It fucking hurt where he had hit him. 

“And now you put on this fucking shirt and come with me and when he asks you, then you tell him that you want him to marry you and you let him fuck you like the little slut you are and don't forget, you are eighteen.” Barney threw the shirt on his chest and wincing Clint got up and pulled it over his head. 

“Come on, stop stalling. We want to get over it.” He grabbed his arm and shoved him out of the trailer. Mary was on her way from the lion cages to the big top and stared at them.

“Mind your own fucking business.” He snarled at her, grabbed Clint's arm and dragged him to Trick Shot's trailer.

Barney opened the door. “Come in.” He snarled and shoved him in. That was the first time Clint saw his future husband. 

“Hey.” He said and nodded at him and eyed him over. God, that guy could be his father. But he looked nice. There was something in his eyes. He leaned himself against the counter and crossed his arms in front of his chest.

“Clint, this is Phil Coulson.” Trick Shot said.


	4. Chapter 4

“You expect me to marry this... this child?” The man said and looked him over. Apparently he wasn't fond to marry as well. _Great_ , Clint thought.

Barney looked at him with this glare and maybe he should say something. At least pretend that he's offended. “Hey.” He managed and glared at the man, Coulson. _What kind of name is that anyway? Sounds strange. Oh crap_ , he thought. _When I have to marry him, I'll probably get his name as well. Damn. I don't want to be Clint Coulson._

Clint watched them discuss their issues and apparently Coulson deliberated the question if he should do it or not. He hoped, that he would say no, that he would take his stuff and leave. At least, he doesn't seem to be as cruel as Trick Shot. He loves to dry fuck him and he's always sore for days when he had to go to him. 

_Wait, what was that?_ “When do we...” The man asked and Trick Shot grinned.

“Right now. We know a JP and he came over to perform your marriage.”

_Right now? Wait! No, I'm definitely not ready to marry right now. I don't know that guy and... fuck! I'm not ready to marry at all._ Barney glared again at him and he knew that he was screwed. That Coulson guy was as shocked as he himself. 

“I want to talk to him alone.” Coulson gestured to follow him and Clint looked at Barney. He nodded but his glare spoke volumes. Don't screw this up, it said.

“Okay, what do you want?” He asked him when they were alone. He was unsure what to do and so he pushed his hands into the pockets of his pants. 

“How old are you really?” Coulson glared at him and this could be his chance. But Barney's glance was still in his head. Don't screw this up. The guy seemed to search for an excuse to not do this but when they would go back and he would cancel the marriage Clint was pretty sure Barney would kill him. He knew that he was involved in Trick Shot's and Swordsman's dubious business and that the guy has something to do with it as well. Inwardly he sighed.

“Eighteen. They told you.” He said to him but Coulson didn't believe him, Clint was well aware of that fact.

“You sure you want to do this?” _No, I'm pretty sure I don't. But my options in this are limited. But I'm sure as hell don't want to get killed._ So he just shrugged and tried to avoid his piercing gaze.

“Yeah.” He pressed through his teeth and waited for Coulson's next move. The man looked him over once again, his eyes fell onto the bruise Barney's grip left on his arm and he lifted the sleeve.

“Did they force you?” _Hell, yeah. Or do you really think I would want to marry with seventeen?_ But he couldn't tell him.

“No, that... I had a fight with one of the bouncers.” _Well, Clint. Not the best of your lies,_ he had to admit. And Coulson doesn't seem to believe one word. But as far as Clint could tell his options were limited as well. 

“Okay. Let's do this.” Coulson finally said and Clint's shoulders slumped. He still had the hope that he would cancel the marriage. _Fuck!_ He swore inwardly.

The guy sighed but entered the trailer and Clint followed him. “Get the JP.” He said and Clint screamed inwardly. _No, no, no! I don't want to do this._

And Swordsman, that bastard, took his cell to call the JP.


	5. Chapter 5

It was a quick ceremony. Five minutes and they were married. It was a sorry spectacle. Clint Barton was now Clint Coulson. The boy looked miserable but when Trick Shot said, they can consummate their marriage in the back of the trailer Phil got nauseous. 

“What do you mean?” He asked, unsure if he'd understood them correctly.

“You know, whatever a man and a man does when they are... together.” Barton said and it sounded slightly disgusted.

“You kidding.” He asked for the umpteenth time. 

“Nope. Your family wanted the marriage, we want to make sure you do it so they can't complain.” Trick Shot said and Phil saw the boy swallow again.

He wanted to discuss this, but when Clint shook his head slightly and went into his and Barney's trailer he followed him.

“Well, then let's do it.” He said when Phil closed the door behind himself. 

“You can't be serious?” Phil was shocked but then the young man shook his head again.

“My brother said, he will... he will check it... if you... we... you know.” He blushed and stepped back a few inches.

“You kidding.” 

“You say that a lot.” Clint furrowed his brows and cocked his head.

“Apparently. But this is all so surreal.” 

“Duh!” The boy snorted but turned to go to the back of the trailer where the bed was. When Phil followed him he found him already stripped out of his shirt on the bed. And he could see more than one bruise on his torso.

“Who had done this?” Phil asked and the young man looked at himself.

“It's work related. Sometimes you slip and hurt yourself.” He said but Phil heard that he wasn't convinced himself.

“So, you fell a few times on someones hands or fists?” He asked and the boy blushed again.

“Please, don't...” Clint said and looked at Coulson with this strange glance. 

“Are you really sure you want to do this?” Phil asked again. _This couldn't be happen. They can't expect me to fuck that boy,_ he thought. 

“Yes, I am sure.” The young man said and opened his pants. And when Phil didn't move he leaned forward, grabbed his tie and dragged him to the bed.

“Is this... I mean... do you have...” Phil started, unsure what to do.

“I'm not a virgin, if it's that what you want to know.” Clint said and got rid of the pants. And then Phil saw him naked and his mouth got dry. That boy was, despite all the bruises on his body, pretty as hell. He was slim with long, lean muscles moving under his skin. He saw his lips twitch slightly and Phil felt something in his own pants. 

“You don't want to undress?” He asked with cocked head and a tiny smile on his face and Phil had to swallow. He finally opened his jacket and got rid of his tie when he felt Clint open his pants and his hand slide into his boxers. 

“Dammit!” He croaked and sat down on the bed. “I... I'm not sure I can do that.” He said and looked at Clint. The young boy sat back on his heels and cocked his head.

“Please.” He pleaded. “If you don't want me to touch you I can stop that but please do it.” He pressed his lips tightly together. Obviously it wasn't a joke when he said his brother would check him. Phil closed his eyes and breathed deeply. He could do this. He worked now for three years on this mission and he won't blow everything up just because of that boy. He was so close to get them all busted, the syndicate, the circus, other forwarders, the contractors, the customers. And apparently Clint wanted it, too. That's what he said. 

“Okay. But...”

“It's everything here.” Clint said, leaned over to the small cabinet beside the bed and found condoms and lube. And Phil's mouth got dry again. To see the boy's muscles ripple under his skin was... arousing. He handed both to Phil and looked at him through his lashes and he had to swallow.

_You can do this_ , he thought. 

“You okay?” He asked and Phil nodded and took the items. 

“May I?” Clint came over to him and pointed at his shirt and Phil nodded again. And then the young man... his husband... opened the buttons and peeled him out of the shirt. 

_You can do this_. He got rid of his pants as well and then he leaned over and put his hand behind Clint's head and kissed him. Chaste at first but after the initial shock the young man opened his mouth and kissed him back. He could feel his hands on his chest, exploring and his own hands roamed over Clint's back.

_You can do this_. Clint slid up to him and Phil touched his flanks and his legs and then his ass while still kissing him. He could feel his cock brushing his own, still in the confinements of his boxers and he moaned slightly. With a little push he shoved Clint on his back and broke the kiss. The boy looked up at him and when he licked his lips and spread his legs Phil swallowed hard.

_You can do this_. Phil caressed his legs, the insides of his thighs but didn't touch his dick, not yet. He angled for a cushion and placed it under the small of his back. He could see Clint flinch slightly and stopped. “You okay?” He asked and after a blink the young man nodded and lifted his ass to adjust the cushion.

_You can do this_. He opened the bottle of lube and slicked his finger. “You sure?” He asked again and looked at the young man. “Yes. Please...” He answered and had again this strange glance on his face. Phil nodded and opened his cleft with his other hand and then he carefully breached his hole with his finger. Again that tiny flinch but when Phil looked at him, the young man just nodded. 

He thoroughly worked him open, first with one, then with two and finally with three fingers. He scissored him, touched his prostate and loosened the tight ring of muscles.

_You can do this_. Phil removed his boxers and freed his dick. It was half-erect and with a few strokes it was hard. It wasn't this difficult, because the boy was really sexy and fuckable, he thought. He sheathed his cock with a condom and slicked it before he lined himself up against Clint's hole and carefully shoved himself in. A tiny hiss let him stop but the young man shook his head. 

“Do it.” He said and Phil finally complied. It was tight and warm and the friction was nearly unbearable and Phil repressed a moan. He gave him a few seconds to get adjusted but then he started to move. He shifted his hips till he heard the boy gasp and he knew he had his sweet spot. Slowly at first he started to fuck him but his speed increased soon after and he grabbed his hips to steady himself. 

It doesn't take to much time but then the young man started to moan and he fisted the sheets beside him with one hand and with the other he grabbed his dick to stroke it forcefully. And then he came, he arched from the bed, his eyes squeezed shut and a blissful expression on his face. His semen shot over his own body. Phil was really close and to see him cum shoved him over the edge and he pumped his own seed into his body. He finally flopped down beside the young man and they both breathed harshly and tried to gain back the ability to speak. 

“Wow.” Clint eventually gasped and looked at the older man beside him. 

“You okay?” Phil asked again and when Clint nodded he smiled ruefully, got rid of the condom and started to dress. 

“I need to talk to your brother and Trick Shot.” He said and left hastily. He missed the hurt look on the young man's face.


	6. Chapter 6

When Phil left the trailer, he found Barton leaning against a car and grinning maliciously. 

“So, how was he?” He asked but Phil ignored his question. 

“Where are Trick Shot and Swordsman?” He counter asked and held Barton's glance.

“They are in their trailer.” He said and opened the door to enter his own.

Phil glared at him but then he went over to the other two men. He had to tell them something and they won't like it.

Without knocking he went in where the two men sat at the table and talked in french. 

“So, you satisfied?” Trick Shot asked and grinned as evilly as Barton a few seconds earlier.

“Yes. And that's what I want to talk about with you.” He grinned now evilly.

“What do you want?” Swordsman cocked his head when he looked at him.

“I'm going to take him with me.” Phil stated and sat down.

“No, that was not part of the deal.” Trick Shot spat.

“He's my husband now and I won't let him stay here. He's coming with me.” 

“He's one of the main acts here and...” Swordsman started but Phil interrupted him.

“He can come over for his performance but he stays with me. And if anyone, either you two or his brother ever lays hand on him again, then we will have another discussion, but this time with Dario. The boy is my husband now and that means, he's part of the family and no one wants to mess with our family.” He said, his usual blank mask on his face and the two carnies looked at each other, carefully deliberating if he was serious.

“You can't take him away. He's...” Swordsman tried again but now Phil grinned.

“You want to bet? But if you want to, I'll call Dario and you can negotiate with him.” He fumbled for his cell. 

“No, okay. He goes with you.” Trick Shot finally said and pressed his lips tight together.

“Fine. Is there anything else we need to discuss?” Phil asked and the both men shook their heads. And he could see they both were really pissed off. 

“I'll go, get my husband.” He rose and left the trailer and Trick Shot came with him. He knocked at the other trailer but went in without waiting. Phil stayed outside and sent a SMS to Dario. A few minutes later he could hear Barton and Trick Shot yell at each other but then the door went open again and Clint came out, with a small duffel bag in his arm and he glared at Phil. 

“They say I have to go with you?” He spat and Phil nodded.

“Yes. You can come over for your performance but you will live with me.” 

“Great. They just canceled my act.” He snarled. 

“Pity.” Phil said and pointed to the exit. “We're going to leave now.” He said when Barton came out and glared at him as well as Trick Shot and Clint. 

“What if I say no?” The boy asked and Phil just lifted one brow.

“We already had this discussion.” Barton growled and glared at the boy who suddenly looked at the floor.

“Is that all of your stuff?” Phil asked and looked at the few items.

“Yes.” He glowered at Phil.

“What about your bow?” 

“Property of the circus.” Trick Shot said and Phil nodded. 

“Okay then, let's go.” With a last glare at them Clint took his bag and followed him. Phil had his car at the visitors parking space but in the meantime the people were all gone. Clint put his bag on the backseat and climbed onto the passengers seat. He was quiet the whole time, just stared out of his window.

Half an hour later they were at his apartment building and he drove into the garage. With Clint in tow he entered the elevator. 

“Guess you need a key then.” He mumbled and Clint just glared over to him.

“Yeah, whatever.” 

They walked together to apartment 514. Phil opened the door and let Clint step in.

“Okay. Then... welcome to your new home.”


	7. Chapter 7

After Coulson... did he say his name? Perry, Pete... no, Phil... after he left Clint stayed on the bed for a few seconds but then he rose and wanted to dress when the door opened again. It was Barney and he once again had this evil grin on his face. 

“So, little princess. How was Prince Charming?” 

“Yeah, Barney. You know what? Go fuck yourself.” Clint grumbled and wanted to get his jeans.

“Turn around.” Barney commanded and the grin vanished.

“What? Are you completely nuts?” He glared up at his brother. When he said that he will check him he thought it was just a threat.

“I said, turn around.” Barney grabbed his arm and hindered him to get to his pants.

“Don't you touch me.” Clint wanted to get rid of his hands on him and tried to shove him away but Barney was stronger than him.

“Do I need to repeat myself again?” He spat and shoved Clint back onto the bed. And when he pulled away the jeans, Clint kicked back and tried to get away.

“Stop that, you fucking pervert.” He yelled but his brother backhanded him again and he fell back.

“Stop, please.” Clint pleaded but Barney turned him onto his belly, grabbed one arm, twisted it on his back and shoved his hand down between his buttocks.

“No!” He struggled and kicked but it didn't help. He felt Barney's hand between his ass cheeks and his finger in his hole. “No! Stop that!”

“Okay, nice and smooth.” He chuckled while the younger man bucked against the violation. “He had it off with you.” 

“Get the fuck off of me!” Clint still fought against the grip and finally he let him go. When he turned around he tried to kick him but Barney was already out of his reach. 

“Don't get your panties in a bunch.” He smirked and Clint glared at him. 

“Asshole!” He spat and grabbed his jeans. He didn't bother with underwear, he just wanted some clothes between him and his brother right now.

That moment someone knocked and opened the door a few seconds later. Trick Shot. He never waited for someone to ask him in. Clint went a step back when he came up to him.

“You want to see if he had his dick up my ass as well?” Clint spat now and got backhanded again by his brother.

“Shut up, faggot. Get dressed.” Barney growled at him and threw the shirt he found at the floor in his direction.

“He wants to take him away.” Trick Shot said and glared at Clint as if it were his fault. 

“What?” Clint asked disbelievingly.

“I said, shut up.” Barney snapped now. “What do you mean, he wants to take him away. He can't. He's...” They both looked at Clint now and stopped. 

“I know that. But he said, since the boy is his husband now he wants to have him.” Trick Shot was furious. 

“I told you it's a stupid ass idea. We should've taken one of the girls from...” 

“Morello wouldn't have accepted that. It was either you, me, Swordsman or that faggot of your brother there.” 

“You know that I can hear you.” Clint threw in.

“Shut up!” Both of them spat simultaneously. 

“I don't want to go, I...” 

“Clint, I swear to god, if you don't shut up immediately I'll beat you to a pulp.” Barney grabbed him at the front of his shirt and glared at him before he shoved him forceful back. Clint landed on the bed and hit his head at the wall behind him.

“He can't take him away. We need him... in the ring.” Barney added the last part when he saw Clint glance at him. Why else would they need him?

“I do know that. But that fucker doesn't listen. He said we have to deal with Morello.” 

“Fuck! And what are we going to do now?” 

“Get his stuff, he's going with him.” Clint wanted to say something but Trick Shot's glare let him shut up.

“What about his act?” Barney then asked and pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Canceled.” 

“But...” Clint now started again but one look at Barney let him shut his mouth.

“Fuck!” The older Barton yelled. “That goddamn fucker. I should strangle him.” 

“Yeah? And then? He's third in command, right after Morello and Stanley. We need that contract and the fucking money, asshole.” 

“Fine.” Barney said. Then he turned to his brother. “Your act is canceled.” He went over to the locker, grabbed the old duffel bag and threw his clothes and the few items he owned in it.

“What about my bow?” Clint dared to ask.

“It stays here together with your costume. Circus property.” 

“But...” This time it was Trick Shot who backhanded him. 

“Be quiet, boy.” He spat. 

“Hey, it wasn't my fucking fault. It was your idea that I should marry him. And now...” Clint stopped himself and ducked back when his brother came over and threw the bag at him.

“Shut the hell up! Do you know how much...” He stopped himself when Trick Shot grabbed his arm and shook his head.

“Out. Take that bag and leave.” With a last glare at the two of them he opened the door and stepped out.

“They say I have to go with you?” He spat when he saw the older man waiting for him.

“Yes. You can come over for your performance but you will live with me.” Coulson nodded without any expression on his face. It was just a blank mask.

“Great. They just canceled my act.” Clint snarled and shouldered his bag. This time he had at least the decency to look slightly miserable.


	8. Chapter 8

Phil entered his apartment and waited for the young man to follow him. 

“Okay. This is the living room, over there is the kitchen.” He pointed in the direction. “Follow me.” Here's the guest room. It's yours now. That's my bedroom and the bathroom is between the two bedrooms.” Phil showed the young man the apartment. Clint followed him but didn't open the door to his new room.

“Make yourself at home.” He said then and got another angry glare. Phil finally opened the door to the guest room. It wasn't big but it had a queen-size bed, a dresser and a built-in closet, two nightstands and a few pictures at the wall. With a last glare the young man entered the room and slammed the door shut. 

Phil sighed and leaned against the wall. He leaned forward, propped his hands against his knees and breathed a few times. _Oh god, what have I done?_ He asked himself and pinched the bridge of his nose. It took him a few minutes but then he reentered the living room, searched in the cabinet for the bottle of Bourbon and a glass. He poured himself a good amount and downed it in one big gulp. Then refilled the glass and downed it as well. 

His hand shook violently right now and he took the bottle and stopped bothering with the glass. He went to his bedroom and now he allowed himself to collapse. With a thud he hit the floor with his ass and leaned his back at the door. Technically the boy could enter his room through the bathroom but he was pretty sure he wouldn't do it.

_Oh god, Phil, you're a child molester. That boy is never ever eighteen. Sixteen. Seventeen at best. What have I done?_ He pulled his legs up to his body and drank the alcohol right from the bottle. _You're a fucking pervert, Phil. You'll go to jail and to hell and you deserve it._

He took another big swallow. _You have to call Agent Slono to report about the marriage._ He thought and hit his head back onto the door. 

_No. You can't do this. If you report him they'll arrest him as well and as far as it seems he doesn't know anything about the human trafficking._ Phil looked at the bottle. It was a new one and now it was half empty. He shouldn't drink, he had to go to Morello tomorrow and talk to him. _Fuck!_ He swore inwardly. _Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!_ He hit the door with his head a few times.

With unsteady motions Phil finally opened the tie and slipped it over his head to throw it onto the armchair in the corner beside him. Then he pulled off his shoes and socks and took another swallow of Bourbon. _Fucking pervert! Child molester! You deserve to go to jail! Write your report! They'll kick you out! You can take the cell besides Barton and the other two clowns._  


He tried to rise to go to his bed but he was really tipsy right now and so he decided to not bother with rising and crawled over. He managed to climb onto his king-size bed and to wrap the quilt his grandmother made for him around his body. He still wore his suit and the bottle was left at the floor. It doesn't take too much time for him to fall asleep, well, more into an alcohol induced coma.


	9. Chapter 9

It was all in a haze. This morning he was one of the stars in the circus, wooed by talent scouts, other circuses and the Olympic archery team, and this evening he was a married man, unemployed and with no idea what to do with the rest of his life. In addition, he met his husband the same day he married him and his brother sold him out, more or less. 

He stood in a small bedroom with his duffel bag in his hands and no idea what to do. 

'Make yourself at home.' He had said. Yeah, very funny. Clint looked around and took in his surrounding. At first he locked the door behind him and the door to the bathroom.

_Fuck!_ He thought and walked up to the bed to carefully sit down. It was too soft. His bed in the trailer was the old daybed where Barney used to watch TV on. He wasn't used to real beds. The last time he slept in a real bed was with his parents and they died when he was seven. In the orphanage they had beds but the mattresses were crap and his had a crack and the bedsprings came out. And then they ran away when he was twelve and they lived at the streets and slept most of the time at the floor. 

When they joined the circus (Clint was thirteen) they got the trailer and Barney claimed the bed. And Clint got the daybed. But this bed was too big and too soft. With a sigh he grabbed the pillow and the quilt and tried to make himself comfortable at the floor. He winced when he accidentally touched the areas where bis brother hit him. He lifted his shirt and found dark bruises forming. _Asshole_ , he thought. If he wanted to run away, he needed a plan. And money. He had nothing but his clothes, his toothbrush, a comb, his Ka-Bar and the AC/DC cushion he won at the fair when he was ten. He could at least stay a few days, maybe as long as it needs to heal the bruises, but he wouldn't stay forever. That was for sure.

He heard a thud from the other bedroom. Apparently Coulson was still awake. Coulson. Clint snorted when he thought about the older man. _Your husband_ , he corrected himself. Clint was well aware that he wasn't someone people wanted to have around, his brother and Trick Shot and Swordsman made that very clear. But at least no one before ran away disgustedly after fucking him. That was new. He knew that the scars and the bruises weren't his fault but apparently Coulson was really nauseated by him and his ugly body. He swallowed hard. This was so fucked up. 

He really wished he could talk to Tommy right now. The other boy was the closest he had to a friend since Barney underwent his radical change and he was nice most of the time. He and his brothers joined the circus last spring and since then they sometimes met and fumbled around, blowjobs, handjobs, no fucking so far. Tommy would know what to do right now. He was a practical person and had always good ideas. But he couldn't ask him. He was stuck in this apartment with this guy who could be his father.

He wouldn't stay here, that was his new mantra. But now, now he was tired. It was a crazy day and he needed to sleep and he doesn't listen to the noises from the other bedroom and so he wrapped the quilt around his body and squeezed the cushion under his head and drifted off to sleep with his knife ready to hand.


	10. Chapter 10

Phil woke with a murderous headache. With a groan he slipped out of his bed, still in his suit but without shoes and socks and entered the bathroom. He rummaged through his medicine cabinet to find painkillers. With another groan he swallowed two of them and sat down at the bathtub. He waited a few minutes but then he started to strip out of his rumpled clothes and he threw them into the laundry basket and entered the shower. He didn't wait for the water to heat up, he just stood under the cold spray and yelped slightly. But then the water got warm and he stood there, his hands at the wall and let himself soak. He had a weak moment yesterday. Usually he wouldn't overindulge himself but the whole situation was too absurd, even for a professional like Phil.

After what felt like an eternity he finally managed to clean himself. The painkillers started to kick in and his headache cleared. He dressed in a pair of sweatpants and an old army shirt and went to the kitchen. He started with making coffee before he searched for some food for breakfast. He wasn't well stocked right now but he had enough supplies for pancakes. 

Fifteen minutes later he had the breakfast ready but no Clint so far. Phil deliberated if he should wake him or let him sleep in and eat his breakfast cold. But then he heard the shower. Okay, he was awake. 

Phil sighed and set the table when his cell started to ring. He looked at the caller's id. Morello.

“Hey Dario.” He greeted him.

“Phil, my friend.” Dario answered with his artificially friendly voice. “How did it go yesterday?” 

“Yeah, well. You can congratulate me. I'm married.” 

“This fast?” Now even Morello seemed shocked.

“Yes, this fast.”

“Well then, congratulations Phil.” 

“Thanks. Did you talk to Sanborn about the damaged freight?” He was all business right now. He knew that Morello didn't call to make small talk.

“Yes, he said it was inevitable.” 

“Inevitable? He's joking. He can't do that and get away with it. Dario, we have to make an example. They can't treat us with this disrespect and get away with it.”

“You can do that, Phil. I have to talk to these circus-clowns today.” 

“Oh, it might be that they are a little bit disgruntled. I took the boy away.” 

“You did what? Phil, you should...” 

“Dario, they...” Phil stopped himself when he heard the boy arrive in the living room. “I'll call you later. We have to negotiate with the Africans about the payment arrangements nevertheless.”

“Okay.” The older man sighed through the phone and Phil ended the call.

Clint stood in the doorway and looked around unsure.

“Take a seat, I made breakfast.” Phil offered. “You want coffee?”

“I'm not allowed to drink coffee. Barney says it...” He still hadn't moved away from the doorway but pressed his lips tight together.

“I have tea, if you want.” Phil said but then the boy shook his head. 

“No, I don't have to shoot straight anymore. I guess coffee is okay?” He looked at Phil questioningly. The older man felt a sting of remorse in his guts but took a mug and filled it with coffee and shoved it in Clint's direction. He finally came over and took the mug. 

“Do you need milk or sugar?” Phil asked and the boy just shrugged. He took his first sip and grimaced. Then he added milk and a little bit sugar, tried again and added more sugar. Phil handed him a plate with pancakes and placed his own in front of him. 

“I don't know how you like your pancakes. I only have honey, if you want.” Phil said but Clint shrugged again. 

“I guess, we need to go shopping. You'll need some stuff.” Clint still hadn't said a word the last few minutes but wolfed down the pancakes in record time. He sat there and waited for Phil to say anything but when Phil discovered his eyes ogling the left pancakes he got up, took the plate and handed it to Clint and after a short hesitation the boy took them and in an instant they were gone as well.

“I've heard you've locked the doors tonight.” Phil started suddenly and Clint paled. “Don't worry, I just wanted to say that you don't need to. I'm... it's your room and I... you don't have to fear anything. I won't... you know... come to you.” 

“Why am I here?” Clint asked and looked at the older man.

“I... They hurt you.” The boy glared at him with an unreadable expression on his face but got quiet. 

“I thought it might be better.” Phil added.

“And what am I supposed to do now?” Clint asked.

“We'll find something.” Phil emptied his mug and looked at Clint's empty plate. “Are you ready? Let's go shopping.”


	11. Chapter 11

On their way Clint stayed quiet at first, just talked to Coulson when the older man said something. 

_They hurt you_ , he'd said. It sounded a little bit as if he cared. Phil pointed out and explained some of the buildings and he listened to him. 

“This is the public library. You can get a library pass if you want to.” Clint blushed slightly. Maybe he should tell him that he couldn't read very well. Steven from the orphanage said it's called dyslexia.

He parked in front of a small shop a few minutes later. “I need to go to the locksmith. You want to come?” He asked and Clint shook his head. Phil shrugged and went into the small store. Clint looked out of the window of the car, his feet propped against the glove box. Usually he would be in the big top for his training right now. He missed his bow. 

Clint watched the other people outside of the car. They walked along the streets, went shopping or to work. No one seemed to notice him. He thought about leaving the car and walking away but where to? He doesn't know anyone outside of the circus and he had no money. He swallowed to repress the tears forming in his eyes. Why had his life to be this fucked up? Sometimes he wished his mother was still alive. His father was an asshole who beat him and Barney nearly every day but his mother was there for him. And till they joined the circus he could count on his brother, but now? He sold him out. He fucking sold him to Coulson and now he was stuck in a life he definitely never wanted. 

He startled when Phil opened the door and put his feet back to the floor. Phil handed him a few keys. Clint looked at the [key chain](http://rlv.zcache.com/green_arrow_shooting_arrow_key_chains-r4038719ae106489996e3ca84a5a11c0c_x7jle_8byvr_216.jpg) . There was a picture of a comic figure, an archer with green clothes, shooting a bow. 

“What's that?” He asked and Phil explained which key was for which door. 

“No, I meant that?” He pointed at the archer figure. 

“Oh, that's Green Arrow. It's a popular comic figure. I thought maybe... because you're an archer, too...” Clint looked again at the small figure and missed his bow some more right now. 

“Thanks.” He said nevertheless. Phil looked at him suspiciously but then Clint forced a smile on his face and the older man started the car and pulled out into traffic.

“You have a driver's license?” Phil asked after a few minutes.

“No.” Clint admitted and blushed. 

“Do you want to get one?” 

Clint thought about it, but he knew that there was a written test and with his dyslexia he wouldn't have a chance.

“No.” He just said and shrugged. 

“Okay. If you change your mind let me know.” Phil looked at him for a second and Clint nodded.

The next stop was a clothes shop. Clint said he doesn't need any more clothes but Phil bought him five pairs of jeans, two pairs of dress pants, two pairs of sweat pants, fifteen t-shirts, three sweaters, two hoodies, three button-down shirts, underwear, socks, a sport jacket, a leather jacket and three pajamas nevertheless. He also got him two pairs of sneakers, one pair of running shoes, a pair of black dress shoes and a pair of Dr. Martens 10 eye cap boots.

There was the awkward moment when the shop assistant called Clint Phil's son. Both men looked at each other and decided to keep quiet. On their way out of the store Clint spotted a shirt, purple, sleeveless with a hood and he immediately liked it. He stood there and looked at it, when Phil came back.

“Do you want it?” He asked and Clint looked at him, then he shook his head. 

“No, you have...” The boy started and wanted to leave but then Phil took the shirt, went back into the shop and bought it as well.

“Why are you doing this?” Clint finally asked when they were back in the car and on the street.

“What do you mean?” Phil looked at him confused.

“Why do you buy all this stuff? What do you want for it?” 

“What... I don't _want_ anything for it. It's just... I've seen the small duffel bag you've had and thought you might need some stuff. Why do you think I want anything for it?”

“Because that's the way it always goes. No one gives you something without wanting something in return.” Phil sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose.

“If you want, call it compensation for what I've done to you.” He said and looked at the young man beside him. “And you need the stuff.” 

Clint looked at him disbelievingly before he pressed his lips together. He wasn't convinced but if he had to pay for it he would do it. He had payed Trick Shot and Swordsman for teaching him and they had been more cruel than Coulson. But maybe the man was so disgusted by him that he wouldn't touch him a second time. 

Coulson drove to a grocery store. He needed to buy food. Clint followed him. 

He bought his usual stuff, then he remembered, that he now had a teenager at home and he maybe would want to have different things. 

“I don't know what you like to eat.” Phil suddenly said and Clint lifted one brow. In the circus he always ate what was available. No one ever asked him if he liked it. And so he just shrugged. Phil pressed his lips together. 

“Sorry.” Clint said and looked at him cautiously. “You eat what is available or you eat nothing in the circus. There wasn't much choice.” He explained. But then Phil shook his head.

“It's okay. Look around, if you see something you want to try, then put it in the cart and try it.” The older man smiled. Clint shrugged again and a few minutes later he came back with fruit loops, pop tarts, peanut butter, a few packages of Almond Joy and loads of ice cream. Phil lifted one brow but kept quiet. Clint threw his stuff into the cart and followed Phil to the checkout.  


On his way back to the apartment Phil stopped one last time. 

“You wait here.” He said and went into a shop. Clint looked at the facade and it doesn't seem to be trustworthy. He couldn't imagine what a man like Coulson would want in a shop like this. He sighed one more time and leaned back. Half an hour later Phil came, fuming but with a bag in his hand. He threw the bag onto the backseat and climbed behind the wheel.

“Asshole.” He muttered with a last glare at the shop before he drove to his apartment.


	12. Chapter 12

The two carried the clothes into Clint's room and then Phil went back to the kitchen and started to unpack the food. He smiled at Clint's choice. Apparently all these things he couldn't get in the circus. 

Then he remembered the last bag and he opened it. It was a cell phone and Phil started to program a few numbers. First his land line number, then his cell number, Phil's primary care physician's number, the dentists number, the locksmith's number. When he was done he went to his computer, searched for a map of the area and printed it out and highlighted the apartment, the physician, the dentist, shops and other important buildings for Clint with different colors. 

Phil looked around. He was still in his room. With a sigh he got up and knocked at his door. A few seconds later he opened it and looked at Phil expectantly. 

“Can you come to the living room, please?” He asked and after a few seconds hesitation the boy came out. Phil could see that he already wore the purple, sleeveless shirt. 

“I have a cell for you and already programed a few numbers you might need. Here's a map of this area if you want to go out.” He gave him the items and then he looked at the bag, opened it again and gave Clint a mp3-player. “I thought maybe you'd like to have one of these. You can download music on my computer but please use legal online music stores.” Clint looked at the mp3-player skeptical. Phil, who saw this glance, added, “And believe me, there's no snag. It's yours and I don't want anything in return for it.” 

“Okay. Thanks.” Clint finally mumbled.

“Usually I'm at work at this time. You can do whatever you like. Watch TV or DVD, use my computer to surf the internet, read a book if you like,” He pointed at his bookshelf. “Or you go out but please, be back at 7 pm.”

Clint looked up and could see something in his eyes. He wasn't sure because he wasn't an expert with emotions and all that stuff, but it seemed as if he was worried about him. He took a deep breath, then nodded.

“Thank you.” He said again and looked at the items in his hand. 

“Okay, it was a long day. Let's get something to eat. I have to make a few calls later. Any preferences?”

“No. Not really.” Clint shrugged and sat down at the table. 

“What about Mexican?” Phil suggested and Clint nodded. He watched the older man rummaging in his kitchen and when he worked he looked like a professional chef. 

“You can set the table.” Phil said after a while and the boy went into the kitchen. “Plates are there and silverware in that drawer.” Phil explained and pointed at the drawer and the cupboard.  


“What's that?” Clint asked after Phil had served the food. He looked skeptically at his plate.

“It's called Chilaquiles. It's made of Tortillas, red salsa, eggs, chicken, cheese and beans.” The young man waited till Phil started to eat before he tried it. It was delicious. In the circus he either ate with the others together but Maura, Carson's wife, wasn't very talented, or he had leftovers in his trailer. No one cared about food, it had to be filling. Some of the artists prepared their own food in their trailers but those who couldn't cook ate at the common tent. 

The pancakes Phil made this morning were good, but this? In an instant Clint wolfed it down. 

“You know that there's enough left and I won't take it away?” Phil asked and then Clint blushed. That was another thing he learned in the circus. Don't dawdle or you stay hungry.  


“Sorry.” Clint said and bit his lips. Phil just shook his head.

“Don't be. You can have the rest. I'm full.” He said and watched Clint trying to eat slowly. 

When they were finished Clint offered to wash the dishes but Phil said that he had a dishwasher and so he disappeared into his room. With a sigh Phil leaned back, pinched the bridge of his nose and glared at his phone. He should call Agent Slono and tell her about the boy. 

But then he decided to do Morello's calls first. He needed to know how much the young man knew about the whole human trafficking business.


	13. Chapter 13

Phil left his apartment at 8 am every morning and came back at 7 pm. In the meantime Clint was alone. The first days he stayed at _home_ but then he got cabin fever and he started to go out.

This morning, Phil made breakfast. As usual. And Clint slept in. As usual. He waited, till the older man was gone before he left his room in his pajamas. As usual. He found a plate with cold waffles and made himself a cup of coffee. He switched on the TV and flopped down at the couch with his breakfast. In the last two weeks since he's here Clint discovered a few TV-shows he liked. Babylon 5 was on schedule this morning and he loved Michael Garibaldi. He was just half through the episode and his third cup of coffee when the phone rang. The land line, not his cell. 

Phil said, he doesn't have to answer the phone but this morning he discovered that he missed three calls from Phil on his cell. 

“Hello.” He said when he finally answered the call.

“Clint, it's Phil. I tried to reach you a few times.”

“Sorry, my battery is dead.” He lied. 

“Oh. Okay. Uhm... could you please go grocery shopping? I put a list on the fridge and the money is in a purse at the counter. I need to work longer this evening.”

“Yeah, can do that.” Clint said automatically. 

“Thank you.” The older man said and hung up.

_Shit!_ Clint swore and put his plate down at the coffee table. He waited till the end of the episode but he couldn't tell what happened afterwards. He just stared at the TV to not think about the list on the fridge. 

He finally got up, went for his room and put on some clothes before he entered the kitchen. To find the purse was no problem but he stared at the list with all the hatred he could manage right now.

Clint took the sheet of paper and glared at it. B.... BR... BRA... no... BREA... BREAD... _Dammit!_ He would need a week to get all the items. And after the first word he already felt the letters starting to dance in his head and the beginning of a headache. 

_Okay, time for the old trick again._ He grabbed the list and the purse and went to the shop. He'd seen it a few times since he was with Coulson but he'd never been there alone.  


He took a cart and went in. Bread wasn't the problem. He already had that but then he looked around. Then he spotted his 'target', an elderly lady. 

“Excuse me, ma'am.” He said when he carefully approached with his list in his hand. The woman looked at him and raised her brows questioningly.

“Can you please help me? I lost my glasses and my h... my dad sent me to buy these things. But I can't read it without glasses.” He looked at her with the glance Barney called his 'puppy eyes'. The woman smiled at him, took her own glasses and looked at his list.

“Of course, my boy.” She said and then she read the list aloud and Clint tried to memorize as much as possible. Bread, eggs, flour, salt, butter, orange juice, two steaks, green beans, onions, sour cream, potatoes, coffee, apples and oregano. 

“Thank you, ma'am.” He thanked her and she smiled at him. 

“That's no problem.” She said and went back to her own cart.

Okay, eggs, flour, salt, orange juice, two steaks, green beans, onions, sour cream, potatoes, coffee, apples and what was the last thing? Orgena? Orango? Dammit!

He searched the rows and found all the things. Eggs, flour, salt, orange juice, two steaks, green beans, onions, sour cream, potatoes, coffee, apples but not the last thing with the strange name. He had no idea what that could be and so he decided to forget it. He paid at the checkout, carried the bag to Phil's apartment and put the items away and placed the purse on the counter where he found it before he left again. 

Phil gave him some pocket money and he went to the cinema. The third time this week. And 'Batman begins' for the second time. 

He was back at the apartment and 8 pm but Phil wasn't there so he took one of the apples and went for his room. He ate the apple and then he decided to go to bed. He didn't hear Phil arrive later that evening anymore.


	14. Chapter 14

Clint woke with a start when someone knocked forcefully at his door. He grabbed his Ka-Bar and was ready to defend himself. 

“Clint!” He knew that voice. Phil, he remembered. He was in Phil's apartment. He released a sharp breath.

“What?” He asked through the still closed door. 

“Where's the butter?” What kind of question was that? He sure as hell hadn't any butter here in this room.

“Fridge.” Clint suggested. 

“No, you should buy butter and I can't find it. Can you please open the door?” Clint rose but before he unlocked and opened the door he threw the cushion and the quilt onto the bed and hid the knife. 

Phil already wore his suit pants and shirt and his tie. 

“I can't find the butter.” Clint left his room, went to the kitchen and looked into the fridge. There was no butter. Was it on the list? He couldn't remember. 

“I... I guess I forgot it. I'm sorry.” He flinched when he closed the door and found Phil too close to him. “I'll go get it.” He said and wanted to disappear to his room to get some clothes. 

“Clint?” Phil was confused. 

“I don't need much time, I...” Phil went after him and stopped him. “Please, don't...” He flinched again when Phil lifted his hand to get a hold on his arm.

“Clint. It's okay. It happens.” He put his hand away after seeing his reaction.

“I'm sorry, Phil. Please, let me get it. I...” Phil was shocked to see the boy this troubled because of forgotten butter.

“Clint, calm down. It's okay. I'll go after work. It was just a question.” 

“Please, don't...” He stopped himself but Phil could guess what he implied. 

“I won't do anything to you. I promise. I just wanted to know where the butter is. It's not a problem, it can happen. Okay?” After a while the young man finally nodded. 

“Guess I shouldn't ask about the oregano, should I?” Phil asked with a reassuring smile. 

“I... I don't know what that is.” Clint answered, barely audible. 

“You don't know oregano?” Phil was baffled.

"No. What is it?" He asked and looked at him now.

“It's a herb. I wanted to use it for the steak marinade.” 

“I can not cook and Maura only knows salt.” He shrugged apologetically. “But I can go to the shop...” The boy started again but Phil shook his head. 

“No, I can use thyme. Don't worry. They'll be tasty as well.” 

“Okay.” Clint said and looked really miserable right now. _Poor boy,_ Phil thought. 

“Get dressed, I'll make waffles.” He said. He had discovered that Clint loved them. 

“With white chocolate chips?” Clint asked hopefully and with another smile Phil nodded. When he left the kitchen and went for his room Phil turned and propped himself against the counter. _These fucking assholes! He thought I would beat him for forgetting the fucking butter. I should shoot these cretins._ He swore inwardly. But then he took a deep breath and started to prepare the batter for the waffles.

 

_Idiot! Fucking idiot! There were just a few items on that list and the woman read all of them to you and you're not capable to memorize them. Now he knows that you're just a idiot, good for nothing._ Clint sat at the floor, his back leaning at the bed. _I have to leave as soon as possible!_ He felt a tear leaving his eye and that made him angry.

“Clint? Breakfast is ready.”

He wiped over his face and breathed deeply. 

“Coming.” He said and rose. 

He found Phil in the living room and he had set both plates onto the table. And of course he had done it right. One of the plates had waffles with powdered sugar, like Clint ate his and the other had this awful dulce de leche on it because that way Phil ate his. 

“I need to talk to your brother today.” Phil started a conversation. 

“Okay.” Clint looked at him warily. Would he tell him that he was too dumb to keep? Would he send him back to the circus? He missed his bow, he missed the show, he missed Tommy, he definitely didn't miss his brother or Trick Shot and Swordsman. 

“Do you want me to say hello from you?” The older man asked and looked at him. Clint just shrugged.

“You don't have to.” He finally said and took a sip of his coffee.

“Have you ever met Barnes and Lawson from the forwarding agency that transports parts of Carson's circus?” Phil watched the young man carefully now but Clint wasn't aware of it.

“No. I've seen them, but never talked to them. Barney said they are none of my business.” Clint shrugged again and grabbed an apple after finishing his waffles.

“Too bad. I thought you could give me something about them.” 

“Lawson has the hots for Jeanne but I guess that's not what you have in mind?” Clint carefully divided the apple in eight pieces and removed the core before he started to eat the fruit.

“No, I was thinking more of something that could strengthen my position during the negotiations.” 

“Sorry, I was just an artist.” He shrugged again and looked at his plate now and toyed with one of the apple pieces.

“Okay.” Phil sighed. “Could you please clean up here? I'm a little late.” He said and Clint nodded.

“Yeah. Can do that.” 

“Uhm... du you need anything? Do you have money?” Phil asked and the boy once again just shrugged. He looked at Clint for a few seconds but then he took his wallet and handed him fifty dollars and he saw him blush, like all the other times before.

“Thanks.” He mumbled and Phil patted his shoulder. 

“Have a nice day.” He said when he left the apartment. Clint waited till he heard the elevator arrive and leave before he went back to his room, extracted one of the drawers and stashed the money in the envelope he taped at it's backside. He sighed, then he went to the living room. It was time for Star Trek: Next Generation.


	15. Chapter 15

In the next four weeks it sometimes happend that they had breakfast together. And Phil always talked about the circus when he had to go there or has been there. Clint listened only half-heartedly because most of the time he only wanted to know anything about people he never or rarely met. Phil still left every day at 8am and came back at 7pm but he never sent Clint to do the shopping again. 

_He knows that you're too stupid for the simplest tasks._ A nasty voice in his head repeated all the time. 

This day he wanted to stay at home but then he got bored out of his mind again and decided to go out to get some fresh air. He walked a few blocks till he came to the near park. He strolled over the gravel paths till he found a nice place and sat down under a tree. He had his mp3-player with him and he leaned back and started to listen some music. He dozed about half an hour when he heard a few people arrive. 

A group, mostly women, dressed in airy sportswear and with mats under their arms took over the lawn opposite the tree he leaned onto. Three men were with them and one of them was apparently the group leader because they all looked at him and what he did. 

They started with stretching and then they made all this strange contorted maneuvers and the group leader praised them constantly. Clint could spot a girl, about his age sitting on a bench nearby and watching them with raised eyebrows. 

Then the man said he wanted to show them one of the most challenging exercises. He knelt, put his hands and elbows onto the floor, raised his knees till his legs were stretched, then he somehow waggled his ass and lifted his feet and wrenched them over his body and it looked so wrong that Clint couldn't repress the laughter any longer. Most of the women glared evily at him but nevertheless, it was funny to see the guy struggling with this position. 

“Be quiet.” One of the older woman hissed at him. “The scorpion pose is complicated.” 

“If he stays in this posture longer than necessary then he will get back pain because he's doing it wrong.” 

“So, and you know that because you're a yoga master?” She spat.

“No, because I can see that he has to struggle to hold this position. His hip is unstable and look at his arms. They're wrong.” He pointed at the man who got unsure now himself. And he finished his exercise and got up.

“So, and you think you can do it better?” He asked when he came over to them.

“No, I know that.” Clint shrugged, still sitting at the ground and looking up to them right now.

“Then let us partake in your wisdom.” The man mocked and Clint got up from the floor in a fluid motion that let them gape. He removed his earbuds and handed the mp3-player to one of the women. 

“Can you please hold that?” He asked, then stretched his legs and rolled his shoulders before he looked at the man.

“It works better if you go down from the handstand.” He said... and then he did it. He went into a handstand, lowered down to the elbow stand and then he lowered his feet till they were beside his face. “See, stable hip, stable stand at the elbows.” He said before he put down his feet in front of his head and rose in the usual complicated motion he used in the circus. 

“That's it.” He shrugged and took his mp3-player. 

“You ever practiced yoga before?” The man asked with one raised eyebrow. And Clint shook his head. 

“This is yoga?” He asked and the looks around him spoke volumes. 

“Where did you learn this?” The man asked and Clint shrugged again. 

“You pick up a few things in the circus.” 

“If you want to... I have another group with advanced...”

“No, sorry. No time for this.” He interrupted him. “I... I have to go.” He shoved the mp3-player in his pocket and left the man and his group behind. 

A minute later he heard steps behind him. He thought, maybe one of them has followed him but he saw the girl from the bench approaching. 

“Hey, that was impressive.” She said and held him back.

“Thanks, but I really need to go now.” He said. 

“Wait. I'm Rachel.” She said and smiled.

“Clint.” 

“I...I've never seen you around here.” She walked beside him and still smiled.

“I'm new here.” 

“Which school are you?” She asked and Clint bit his lip. 

“I'm... I'm not at the school anymore. I've been... our circus had some sort of homeschooling.” He lied.

“You're a carnie?” She looked curious at him now.

“Yeah. Well, not anymore.” Clint stopped now and turned to her.

“Wow. I've never met a carnie.” She cocked her head and eyed him over.

“Listen, Rachel. I really need to go now.” He wanted to leave but she held him back with one hand at his arm.

“Clint, what... do you want to go for a coffee tomorrow?” She asked and smiled again.

“I... I'm not sure if this is a good idea.” He pressed his lips together. But Rachel rummaged through her rucksack, found a piece of paper and scribbled her phone number on it. 

“Call me if you change your mind.” She smiled and then she turned to walk back. She waved at him. “Bye Clint.” 

“Bye.” He looked at the paper in his hand and then back at Rachel and then he smiled as well.


	16. Chapter 16

Two weeks later he finally called her. He was so bored out of his mind and Phil most of the time talked about the guys he met at his job or he talked on his phone to god knows whom. Clint had tried to be around when he was there, but he didn't talk to him very much. 

“How was your day?” He usually asked him when he arrived at home. And Clint usually answered with, “Fine.” 

Sometimes he asked for his food preferences but due to the fact that Clint wasn't picky he didn't ask often in the last time. 

This morning after Phil left Clint lounged at the couch and watched Farscape when he found the paper with Rachel's phone number in his jeans pocket. With a sigh he took his cell and called her.

“Hey.” She said when she answered the call.

“Hey, Rachel. Uhm... this is Clint... uhm... we met at the park two weeks ago.”

“Yes... hi. I thought you wouldn't call.” 

“Yes... no... I mean... I wasn't sure myself. But if you still want to go... you know... coffee... I'm game.” 

“Sure. When do you have time?” 

“Uhm... I'm available most of the day.” He said and it sounded really pitiable right now. 

“Oh... okay. What about right now?” She suggested.

“Yeah, I'd like that.” 

“Do you know Carla's diner?” 

“Uhm... no.” He wasn't sure if he knew it. It was possible that he's been there. He never tried to read the names. If it looks like a diner it was a diner. There was food and coffee... perfect. 

“It's on the east side of the park we met. Between the cinema and the butcher.” 

“Okay, guess I'll find it.” He said. Yes, he's been there. 

“Twenty minutes?” 

“Yeah, okay. See you there.”

“Bye.” 

Eighteen minutes later he stood in front of the diner when he saw her arriving. She smiled brightly and together they entered the building. They found an empty table and sat down. Clint ordered coffee and Rachel diet coke. 

“I haven't expected you to call anymore.” She started and looked at him. “What changed your mind?” 

“I... Like I said, I'm new here. I don't know many people and...” 

“And you thought you could need some company.” Rachel finished his sentence and he nodded and blushed. 

“That's okay. How long are you here now?” 

“About two months but with the circus we're around here since five months. I hadn't had much time to explore the city. Three shows every day and then all of us had to work to... to keep the business going. You know, repair things, take care of the animals, the daily grind.” 

“Tell me about the circus,” she said and smiled.

“Really?” Clint lifted one brow but when he saw her nodding enthusiastically he shrugged.

“Okay, there are these guys, Terrance and Lewis. They are clowns and...” 

 

He didn't notice how time flew by. Rachel was nice and to talk to her was fun. She loved his stories from the circus and they laughed a lot. She talked about her school and her friends there, her family and her dog, a poodle called Curly. And suddenly it was nearly 11 pm. 

“Oh fuck!” Clint yelled when he saw how late it was. “I'm... god, I'm sorry, but... I need to go.” Rachel was confused.

“Clint, what...” She wanted to take his arm but he rummaged through his pocket and threw a handful of banknotes onto the table.

“Sorry! I... I have to go,” he said again and disappeared. She saw him jog down the street and a few seconds later he was out of her sight. 

“What was that?” Carla said when she came over to her table. Rachel was a regular here and the older woman knew her.

“I have no idea.” She just shook her head.


	17. Chapter 17

He debatted now since a few minutes in front of Phil's apartment with himself if he should go in or run away right now. But then the door opened and the older man stood there and glared at him. 

“Where have you been?” He asked him and Clint swallowed. 

“I... I...” he started to stammer but then Phil stepped aside and pointed with his head for him to get in.

“Phil I...” Clint started once again when he was in the living room but the older man just looked at his watch. 

“Seven pm, Clint. Is this really this difficult?” He frowned and shook his head.

“It's... I...”

“Where have you been?” He didn't raise his voice and that was even worse.

“I was out,” he said and sat down at the armchair.

“That much I figured out myself. I asked you, _where_ you have been?” Phil crossed his arms in front of his chest. 

“I met someone. A friend,” Clint explained and now Phil pursed his lips.

“A friend?” He looked disbelievingly at Clint.

“Yes, Phil. A friend. Even a dumbass like me is able to meet people and make friends,” Clint finally spat. This interrogation was going to enrage him.

“You are not... You didn't say anything... I was...” Phil started but now he got interupted by Clint.

“I do not have to tell you everything I do! God dammit! You're not my father, Phil! You're just...” He stopped himself just in time when he saw the glance the older man threw at him.

“No, I'm not. But...” 

“Fuck you! I'll go to bed.” He spat now. He didn't know why he was so enraged but when he entered his room he slammed his door. _Fucking asshole,_ he thought. He punched the door behind him and his hand started to hurt. With a frustrated huff he grabbed his cushion and his quilt and made his bed at his usual spot beside his drawer.

“Asshole.” He grumbled and still stared at the door. “Doesn't talk to me but can't stand it when I talk to others.” He muttered into his beard. “Fuck you, Phil.”

 

This evening when Phil entered his apartment it was empty. He looked at his watch and it was already qarter past seven. Clint usually was here, when he came home. 

He knocked at his door and after a few seconds he opened it. The boy wasn't there. He looked around and was shocked. Clint was with him now for nearly two months but except from an AC/DC cushion on the bed no one would believe that someone lives in this room. 

Phil was worried when it got 8 pm. He took his cell and called him but got only the mailbox. “Clint, this is Phil. Please call me.” He said and ended the call.

He called again at half past eight. “Please, Clint. I'm worried. Call me.” 

And again at nine. “Are you okay? Please, call me if you can.” 

At ten he called the police if someone with Clint's description got arrested and when they said no he called the hospitals and got the same answer. 

“Clint, goddammit! Call me! Did anything happen? Do you need help?” He got angry. _It's not too difficult to take the phone and call and say, hey Phil, I'm late but I'm okay, is it?_  


The next number he dialed was Dario Morello's. 

“Dario? Phil here.”

“Phil, my friend. What can I do for you?” He asked with his overly friendly voice.

“I... do... Clint is not at home and I wanted to know if those circus-guys said anything...” 

“No, Phil. They weren't overly fond that you took him but they didn't say that they wanted him back.” 

“It's... he's overdue and I'm worried that something happened.” 

“Call Ron and Perry. They can look out for him.” The older man suggested. 

“Yes, that's a good idea. Thanks.” He said. 

Phil sat down at his couch with his cell in his hand and thought about calling the two thugs but then he decided to give him another hour. To send these two guys after him could be more dangerous for Clint. But he was still worried. Every five minutes he glared at his phone and he had started to pace when he finally heard someone in front of his apartment. He went to the door and found Clint there. He stared open mouthed and seemed caught short.

Phil was relieved and pissed off at the same time and so he just asked him where he's been. He never expected him to be this aggressive and in an instant they had a fight and the boy disappeared to his room and slammed the door behind him. 

'I was just worried,' he wanted to say but Clint was gone. With a sigh he flopped down onto his couch and leaned his head against the backrest. 

“Dammit!” He muttered and sighed again.


	18. Chapter 18

The next moring Clint stayed in his room. Phil was accustomed to it in the meantime. He would leave his breakfast on the counter like all the times when he slept in. 

But before he left Phil took his phone and dialed. 

“Penny? Phil here. I... I need to talk to you. Can we meet? Yes, that would be fine by me. Okay, I see you this afternoon. Bye.” 

He wrote a note to Clint that he would be late this evening and that he wanted to talk to him.

On his way to his work Phil stopped at a coffee shop to buy some coffee and to hand over the newest evidence he collected. That was pretty easy. He put the folder in a newspaper, then he put it on the counter beside him when he bought his coffee. Agent Slono was there in the line as usual and would take his paper while he took hers. With his coffee and 'his' paper he went back to his car. He knew it was so cliché that it acutally worked pretty well. He took a mouthful of coffee before he looked for his new instructions. 

'We have enough evidence to take out the Africans and the Mexicans. Need more about the circus and Morello's gang.' Phil sighed while scanning the attached list. 

Then he took his phone and called Morello.

“Dario? I need to talk to that Trick Shot guy from the circus again. We could get a problem with them.” He left on his voice mail before he threw the cell onto the passenger's seat and started the car to drive to the circus. 

About an hour later he drove onto the parking area. One of the carnies asked him what he wanted and he said, he needed to talk to Trick Shot and the young boy told him, that he was in his trailer. Phil knew the way and left to talk to him.

He knocked at the door and a few seconds later Trick Shot opened. Phil realized that he still didn't know his real name.

“What do you want?” He snarled and it seemed that he wasn't overly fond to see him. 

“We need to talk about the last delivery.” Phil said, all business right now. 

“The last delivery?” He wanted to play dumb. Okay, Phil knew this game at well.

“The boys from Romania. They should be here right now and our customers... became angry. But I can sent them to you and you can talk to them and explain, why they still have to wait for their merchanidse.” Phil said and lifted one eyebrow. He knew exactly where the boys were. They were with the child protective service. But apparently the circus guys didn't know that. Good, Phil thought. 

“Come in.” Trick Shot stepped aside and Phil entered the trailer.


	19. Chapter 19

This evening, after negotiating with Trick Shot, Swordsman and Carson, with the Romanian clans, with two goons from the Mexicans who thought they could blackmail Morello and with Dario himself he was tired. He had to write his report and to file the evidence he collected today. But then he remembered that he wanted to meet Penny. 

With a sigh he turned the car around and drove to the small Greek restaurant his sister loved so much. She was already there and smiled when she spotted him.

“Hey, little brother.” She greeted and Phil smiled. She was only fifteen minutes older than him but she always called him litte brother.”

“Hello, big sister.” He hugged her and then they sat down again. 

“I already ordered our usual assortment of appetizers and two plates.” 

“You know me too well.” Phil chuckled slightly. 

“Okay, what is your problem.” Penelope asked straightforward. She had heard it in his voice that something was really fucked up. 

“I need your... your advice.” Phil started and poured some water from the jug in his glass and took a sip. 

“You? You need _my_ advice?” Penny was baffled. 

“It's... how do I cope with a teenager?” Phil fumbled with his glass and his sister nearly choked on a sip of water. Penny had two children and Morgan, the older one, was fifteen now.

“Phil? Is there something I need to know?” She asked and ignored his question.

“No, it's... I don't have a child if that is your question.” 

“Phil, spill it!” He knew that he had to tell her something.

“I... it's work related. I have to take care of a eighteen years old boy and he's... difficult.”

“You have to take care... What's that supposd to mean? With eighteen he's legal age and...” 

“Please, it's... I really need your help.” 

“Okay, what's the problem?” She took a sip of water and cocked her head.

“I don't know... he's... he doesn't talk very much, he forgets things, he doesn't call in when he's late, he's snappish, he's...” 

“He's a teenager.” Penny interrupted him. “He may be legal age but he's still a teenager. That's how teenagers are, Phil.” She shook her head.

“He's... he's different.” Phil murmured.

“Why? What makes him so different?” 

“He's... his parents died when he was a child, he ran away to the circus with his brother who beat him and his... his mentors... they... they... Penny, I think they raped him.” _Oh, and maybe I should add that I forced myself on him as well_ , he thought.

“Phil, for heaven's sake! What are you doing?” She knew that he worked for some government organization but no details.

“You know that I can't tell you. It's...” 

“Yeah, yeah, I know... national security or something like that.” The waiter came and placed a few plates with Mezes and a basket of bread onto the table and Phil and Penny waited till he was gone.

“I don't know, Phil. I'd say you should go to a psychologist with him. It's... I'm a teacher, Phil. I don't know what to do with... god... that's so awful.” She wiped her hand over her mouth.

“I'm not sure if he wants to go to a shrink.” Phil sighed and filled his plate with Prassoboorekakia, Dolmades and Taramosalata.

“Make him. It's important. He needs a way to cope with this trauma and he can't do it alone and apparently you can't help him as well.” She said and took some Keftedakia, Tzatziki and Saganaki. 

“He... he said he has a friend now.” Phil said and reached for some bread.

“This is good. He needs someone in his age.” 

“Yeah. Maybe.” They sat opposite each other and ate in silence for a few minutes.

“How are mom and dad?” Phil finally asked, changing the topic. 

“Okay. I've talked to mom yesterday. They have a dog now. A german sheppard.” 

“That's nice. Dad always wanted to have a dog.” Phil smiled slightly.

“Phil, call them.” Penny said and dipped her bread into the Tzatziki. 

“I've tried it.” He admitted. “Dad asked me if I'm still gay.”

“Oh, Phil. He doesn't...” 

“They have you, Thomas and Elena. They don't need me.” 

“Phil...” 

“No, I... I just wanted to know if they are okay. Let's talk about something else. How about my goddaughter? How's Lilly? She's fourteen, isn't she?” 

“She has a boyfriend now.” Penny grinned. “He's in her class and she tries to convince me that they are just friends. And when he comes over it's only to do homework together.” 

“Hmm... I'm not sure but I've heard something similar from you when you started to date Russel?” Phil smirked and took the waterjug to refill his glass.

“I don't know, what you're talking about,” Penny tried to look innocent but couldn't repress the smile on her face. 

It was past ten when they finally left the restaurant. Penny promised to visit him in the foreseeable future and Phil promised to call her more often. They both knew nothing of this would happen. Outside of the restaurant Phil thought about driving himself but he had two glasses of wine and a few ouzos and he decided to take a cab. 

He arrived at his apartment half an hour later and when he opened the door it was quiet and dark. 

“Clint?” He called but no one answered. When he switched on the light he found the note for Clint where he left it. 

“Clint?” He tried again but still no answer. He went to his room and knocked and after a few seconds of waiting he tried the door knob. It wasn't locked and Clint wasn't there as well. Phil sighed, went back to the living room and sat down. And after a few minutes of deliberating he took his cell and called Clint's number. It was the mailbox.

“Clint, this is Phil. Call me.” He said and leaned back. 

Two hours and five messages on the mailbox later he heard someone open the front door. 

“We need to talk.” Phil said when the young man stared at him open mouthed.


	20. Chapter 20

Clint waited till he heard the front door close before he left his room. He showered and then went to the living room to find a plate with French toast on the counter and he prepared himself a cup of coffee. With his breakfast he went to the couch as usual and watched Stargate while eating. 

He had just emptied his mug when his cell rang.

“Hey, Clint. It was... you know, yesterday... is everything okay?” It was Rachel and she sounded concerned.

“Yes, I'm fine. I'm sorry, I shouldn't have run off this rashly.”

“Nah, that's okay. I just got the impression that you're in trouble.”

“Can... can we meet today?” He asked. He needed someone to talk to and Rachel was the only one he knew. He couldn't talk to his brother or to Phil.

“Yeah, let's meet after school. In the park, same place like last time?” 

“Cool. That's... cool!” 

“Okay. Uhm... I have to go back to class right now. See you later.” 

Clint placed his dishes in the dishwasher and when he went back to his room he saw a piece of paper on the kitchen table but it looked like one of Phil's notes and he didn't care to try to read it. 

He put on his trainers and left the apartment for a run. He's been a little bit lazy in the last weeks and he felt itchy, he needed the exercise. 

After about an hour, he took the route through the park, he stopped when he found a nice place to do his stretchings. He started with easy moves to let his muscles get accustomed to the strain before he went for the more complicated moves. Half an hour later, when he was done, he found a few older ladies sitting at a bench nearby and watching him and when he rose they clapped. Clint closed his eyes. He missed the circus. He definitely doesn't miss his brother, Buck or Jacques but he missed his few friends and the show. With a forced grin he waved at the older women and turned to run back to Phil's apartment. 

He showered again and rummaged through the fridge to find something edible and finally decided on an apple. While he munched his apple he looked around. Phil never said anything about cleaning but since he had time he started to do the housework. He had a few hours to kill till he wanted to meet Rachel and so he started to dust off in the living room, then he cleaned the windows. He went to the bathroom and found the laundry basket filled with dirty clothes and he drove down into the basement and went to the laundry room. One thing Barney never wanted to do was the laundry and so Clint knew how to use a washing machine. Back in the apartment he cleaned the bathroom, the kitchen and his room and then he fetched the freshly laundered clothing. They had tumble-dryers in the laundry room but he knew that Phil doesn't like them and so he put the clothes on the drying rack in the bathroom. 

Then he looked at his watch, it was time to leave if he wanted to be punctual. 

 

Rachel sat at the same bench where he met her for the first time. 

“Hey,” she greeted him with a hug. Clint wasn't used to this form of greeting and he got stiff for a few seconds. 

“Hey,” he said and looked a litte bit embarrassed. 

“You okay?” Rachel asked and cocked her head.

“Yeah. Sure.” He pointed in one direction. “You want to take a walk?” 

“Okay.” Rachel nodded and they walked in silence for a few minutes.

“Clint, I need to ask you this. Yesterday you ran away so overhasty... are you really okay?”

“Yeah, I'm fine, really.” He smiled. 

“You got into trouble with... I don't know... your parents?” She looked at him and tried to read his face.

“No... my parents died when I was seven. It's... I told you it's complicated.”

“Yeah. You know you can talk to me.” She could see him deliberate inwardly if he should say something or if it was better to stay quiet.

“Rachel, I... when... what do you expect from this? From me?” He finally asked.

“I don't know.” She shrugged. “I like you. You're funny and it's interresting to talk to you.” 

“So you don't want to... you know...” He blushed and licked over his lips, “... something like... more?” 

“Do you want to?” She stopped and pointed at a bench. She doesn't want to do this conversation while walking.

“It's...” He started and Rachel chuckled slightly.

“... complicated?” She finished his sentence with a grin.

“Yeah... It's... I'm gay.” He looked at his hands, wiped over his left ringfinger and then looked at her again. “And... and I'm... I'm married.”

“You are _what?_ ” She asked and stared at him open-mouthed. That wasn't anything she'd expected.

“Married. I'm... married.” He repeated and then swallowed.

“Okay. I didn't expect that. How long?”

“Since about two months.”

“Don't get me wrong but you don't seem to be overly excited,” she stated and Clint snorted. 

“It's... complicated. It was... it was sort of a business deal.” 

“You didn't wanted to marry?” And Clint snorted again.

“What do you think? I'm se...eighteen. At least I wanted to chose whom I marry.” 

“Why did you do it?” Rachel was still shocked. She always thought arranged marriages weren't usual anymore. But apparently she was wrong.

“I don't know.” Clint shook his head licked over his lips again.

“And your... your husband... he's...” Clint could hear what she indicated.

“Phil? He's... well... I guess he's okay. We don't talk very much. He never got asked as well.”

“Why do you stay? Leave him and get a divorce.” 

“That's what I try but I need a job and money to leave.” 

“My dad is lawyer. I can talk to him and ask him what you can do. Would that be okay?”

“You would do that? For me?” Clint asked astonished. 

“Sure. That's what friends are for.” 

“Wow... that... wow!” Clint still stared. He wasn't used to people doing nice things just because they were friends. 

“Okay, what do you think about going to the cinema? I want to see 'Twelve and holding.” 

“Sure.” Clint grinned, rose and held his hand out to help Rachel up. 

 

They went to Carla's diner when they left the cinema and talked about the movie, music and other stuff and like last time, Clint totally lost track of time and when he looked at his watch it was past midnight. This time he didn't run off, he said goodbye, got another hug from Rachel and a smile from Carla.

When he was back at Phil's apartment, and now he realized that he still called it Phil's apartment and not his home, he hoped that Phil was already in his bed. He listened at the front door and when he couldn't hear a thing, he finally opened it and went in. And found a really pissed looking Phil glaring at him. 

“We need to talk.”


	21. Chapter 21

“What is your problem?” Phil asked when he sat down at the couch. 

“I don't have a problem.” Clint licked his lips and looked warily at the older man. He still stood at the door, ready for flight if necessary.

“Can you please sit down?” Phil pointed at the armchair opposite him. 

Carefully the young man went over and sat down, his keys still in his hands. 

“Why do you do this?” He asked suddenly and Clint furrowed his brows.

“What...” he started but the older man shook his head.

“I know this situation is fucked up. But I thought we could make the best out of it. Is it so difficult to follow a few rules?” 

“What? To be here at 7 o'clock? I'm not a child, you know. And...”

“No, it's not only this. It's... you stay in your room when I'm at home, you don't call when you are late, you don't answer my SMS's, you ignore the notes I write you,” he pointed at the piece of paper on the kitchen table. “I know we both don't want this situation and...”

“You should've let me stay at the circus.” Clint interrupted him and looked at his hands.

“No, that wasn't an option. They...” Phil started and again the boy interrupted him.

“They were my family, my friends. You dragged me away and now you think I'm going to sit all on my own in your apartment the whole day and wait for you? It's fucking boring, you know? I can't do your housework the whole day. Then, when you are here you're on the phone most of the time. And now, when I found a friend, a _friend_ , you try to ruin that? Fuck you, Phil!” Clint rose and wanted to disappear into his room when Phil stopped him with a hand on his arm.

“Whom did you speak to?” 

“What?” Clint spat disbelievingly and glared at him.

“There are people at the circus, lurking around and asking questions.” 

“And you think it's _my_ fault? I was an artist, you know? An artist! I had three shows a day, I worked there. _You_ know more about their other activities than me. I only talked to Rachel.” 

“Who's this Rachel?”

“She's... I don't know what you think but Rachel still goes to school. She definitely isn't a threat to your business.” 

“I want you to be careful what you...” Phil started again and this time his eyes went cold.

“Fuck you, Phil.” Clint broke free and went back to his room. 

Phil went back to the couch and flopped down. _That went well,_ he thought. _Maybe I should call Agent Slono and talk to her about Clint._

He never let him say what he wanted to say. _Clint, I took you away because they mistreat you. And I want you to be careful because I don't know what will happen to you when my other Agents think that you are involved in your brother's business._

Phil took his cell and called a number.

“Danielle, Phil here. I need a favor.... yes, I know... I owe you one?... yeah... when I send you a phone number, can you tell me whom this person had called?... sure... you're the best!... yeah, call me. Bye!” He knew Danielle since he arrested her and she decided to work for Shield. She was willing to help him sometimes without asking questions. He sent her Clint's phone number in a SMS and waited. Twenty minutes later his phone rang and he took the call immediately.

“Danielle? Yes... okay... Rachel Torres... anything... no, just a student... okay... and her parents?... Lawyer?... And her mother?... ah, okay. Thank you, Dani, I really owe you one!... yeah, fine. Bye.” He chuckled when he put the phone away. Danielle just got herself tickets for Disneyland, sponsored by Phil. But apparently this Rachel was really okay. 

With a sigh he went for his bedroom and when he entered the bathroom between his and Clint's room he found the drying rack with his clothes and he felt guilty. It was true, since Clint was here he hadn't had to do any housework. It was as if he had his own little house-elf. 

_Tomorrow I will apologize and try to talk to him properly,_ he told himself while he brushed his teeth before he went to bed.

 

Clint closed the door behind himself and breathed deeply. _Fuck! Why does this guy always manage to drive me crazy,_ he thought and leaned against his door. 

He should've tried to read the note, but he knew that he always get migraine when he reads and so he stopped trying. Clint stripped out of his clothes and threw them onto the bed. He grabbed his cushions and made his lair on the floor. 

_You need to go away. Maybe you can join another circus,_ he thought while slipping into his pajamas and grabbed the quilt. 

_Fuck you, Phil!_ he thought. _Tomrrow I talk to Rachel and ask her if she can help me to escape._


	22. Chapter 22

They never talked. Clint stayed in his room for the next four weeks and Phil never saw him. He heard him when he came home because then he started to hear music very loudly. His doors were locked. 

He waited, till the older man left the apartment and then he got out. Phil tried to stay quietly in his living room a few times but apparently Clint could sense him because then he stayed in his room. It was exhausting. And finally Phil resigned. He ignored him as well. 

He still made his breakfast and he still put money on the counter every monday for him but he never tried to talk to him again. As soon as this assignment was over he would get an anulment of the marriage and then they were done. 

This morning he met Agent Slono in their safe house and she said to him, that they were in the final stage. Four weeks maximum and then they could arrest all of them. Phil was glad to hear that because he had started to hate this assignment. 

He still worried about him but now he convinced Danielle to check on Clint's phone on a regular basis. He met Rachel thrice a week, went to the cinema twice a week, went for the park every day, did the housework every day and stayed in his room as soon as Phil entered the apartment. 

_Four weeks,_ he sighed and went into the kitchen to get some coffee.

 

Clint waited till Phil was gone. He knew, that he was gone because his room granted access to the vents and he used them to look if he was still there. But today he was really gone. He tried to trick Clint into believing he was gone a few times and one time it had almost worked. Since then he always used the vents to make sure Phil was gone.

He went into the kitchen to find his breakfast and his usual hundred dollars on the counter. He took the money, put twenty dollars into his wallet and went back to his room to hide the rest. He counted it. Eight hundred and fourty dollars. One hundred and sixty to go. He needed the money for a new ID and to start a new life. Together with Rachel's help he found someone who could provide him with a new ID. In her father's files she found someone who could manage this but he wanted five hundred dollars. And Clint needed the rest till he found a job. 

He thought about going back to the circus, back to Barney and Buck and Jacques, but only for a second. Not after all they'd done to him. No, he would find another place to live, a job and a life without Barney, Buck, Jacques and Phil. 

He just went down to the laundry room when Rachel called him.

“Clint? I... we can meet the guy this evening.” 

“Really? Cool! That's... cool!” 

“We meet him behind Carla's diner, okay?”

“Yeah, I'll be there. Thank you!”

“You're welcome.”

So far everything works out. He grinned and threw the dirty laundry into the washer.

 

“Hey, Clint. We're here.” Rachel waved and Clint came around the building into the dirty courtyard. 

“You the guy?” A lanky man asked and glowered at him. Clint just nodded.

“I want you to know that I just do this because Rachel here asked me because her father helped me.” He said and Clint once again nodded.

“Cat got your tongue?” He frowned.

“No.” Clint finally replied. 

“Okay, I need a picture. Half of the money right now, the other half when you get your stuff.”

“Yeah, okay.” Clint fumbled in his pocket and gave him the money. Rachel told him how this would work and so he brought it with him.

“Picture?” The guy lifted one brow and Clint just looked at him. With a sigh the man rolled his eyes. “Over there at the station is a photo booth. Be back in ten.” 

Clint nodded and jogged to the station, ran down the stairs and searched for the photo booth. He was back in nine minutes and handed one of the photos to the guy, now sitting in Carla's diner and drinking coffee.

“Okay. Any preferences for your name?” He asked.

“No. Nothing too freaky.” Clint shrugged and the guy nodded. 

“One week. Same time, same place.” He paid for his coffee and left. Rachel, who still sat at the table, grinned at him.

“Thanks!” Clint said when he slipped onto the bench. He ordered a coffee when the waitress came over.

“It's okay. I'm pretty sure I'm gonna miss you when you leave but... you know...” 

“Yeah. I... I don't wanna go, you know? I... it's so fucked up.” He looked at his hands and then took a sip of his coffee.

“We stay in contact.” She said and took his hand. 

“That's for sure!” 

“Okay, but for now we enjoy that you're still here.” She smiled and leaned back in her seat.


	23. Chapter 23

The next two weeks were really hard for Phil. He worked sixteen to eighteen hours a day and when he came back to his apartment he mostly stumbled into his bedroom and fell into his bed. Morello planned some really big deal together with the circus, the Africans, the Mexicans, the Romanians and the Chinese and Phil, Simon and Paul nearly could wrap it up. The difference between him and Simon and Paul was, that he had to do his 'other' job as well, his job as undercover agent. He met Agent Slono now on a daily base in the coffee shop and this day was no exception. 

“You look bad, Phil,” she said when she took the seat opposite him. 

“I'm okay, just tired. And I promise you one thing, the day we have all these guys in jail I'll go to bed and stay there for one week.”

“And I personally will fill your application for leave. What do you have?” 

“Dario called yesterday. He said the Romanians made the deal. Twenty girls between fourteen and sixteen. We have to expect the shipping next week. I'll get the details this afternoon. The guys from the circus said they can bring them to their destination. I don't have an idea how because they want to stay for another month. I'll find out but these guys are... strange.”

“Okay. Anything else?” 

_Yes, I have one boy in my apartment. And he hides in his room. What can I do with him?_ He thought.

“No, you have all you need to bag the Mexicans and the Chinese, I'll get the last details about the Africans in a few days.” 

“Okay, be careful, Phil.” She smiled and patted his hand.

 

But in the last two weeks something else had changed. He still didn't see very much of Clint but since about two weeks every evening, when he came home, he found a plate with sandwiches. The first time it happened there was a small piece of paper leaning against the plate with his name, written in a very scrawly handwriting, on it. Apparently he sensed that Phil hadn't much time to eat the whole day. 

This evening, Phil opened his front door, when he heard the TV. He stopped and stared a second. Clint lay at the couch, huddled under a few blankets and his head on the armrest. And he was sound asleep. He found his trainers at the side of his couch and they looked tattered. Obviously he used them very often. Maybe he should buy him a new pair, Phil thought, took the remote as carefully as possible and turned off the TV. He tiptoed to the kitchen and found his usual plate with sandwiches and he just wanted to sit at his small kitchen table when he heard the boy in the living room. 

“Clint,” he said and a few seconds later a really rumpled young man appeared at the door jamb.

“You're here,” he stated and shuffled to the fridge. 

“Yes... thank you... you know... for the sandwiches.” Phil leaned back in his chair and watched the young man fill a glass with orange juice and then flop down on the chair opposite him.

“Yeah, it's... you look like something the cat dragged in, you know that?” 

“Work is really stressfull at the moment. Something big is going on and I'm not sure if it's good or bad.” 

“You still deal with my... with the cirucs?” He took a sip of his juice and waited for Phil to say something. 

“Yes, and that's part of the problem.” Phil took a bite from his sandwich and watched the boy.

“The circus? Or Barney, Trick Shot and Swordsman?” He still didn't say their names in his presence. 

“Both, I suppose. It's... it's complicated. It's not easy to do business when you have to be careful whom you talk to.” Phil shrugged. _You do realize that they are criminals, do you?_

“Yeah... well... I go to bed now. And you should do the same sometimes.” Clint emptied his glass and put it in the dishwasher. 

“Clint?” Phil stopped him before he could leave the kitchen. He turned around and looked at Phil expectingly. “You okay?” 

“Sure,” the young man nodded and cocked his head slightly. 

“It's...” Phil stopped and licked over his lips. “Good night.” He watched Clint leave and leaned back in his chair. _I hope this wasn't a mistake,_ he thought. He still could warn them. But Danielle still checked his cell and he never had tried to contact his brother. The only person he talked to was Rachel. _Soon it's over and then everything will get back to normal._


	24. Chapter 24

“You ready?” April Slono asked and looked at Phil putting on his bulletproof vest. He looked up, smiled and nodded. 

“Yes, let's get them.” 

Yesterday Director Osbourne gave them the go-ahead and today Phil, the other undercover Agents and the tactical teams were on their way to arrest all of them. It would be a pleasure to bust Dario and his godawful 'Phil, my friend'. He was more than eager to put him in cuffs himself. 

“Okay, teams Beta, Gamma and Delta, in position?” April asked over the comms.

“Beta in position.”

“Delta in position.”

“Gamma in position.” 

“Get them,” she said and suddenly all hell was breaking loose. Phil had his gun in his hand and ran to the building where he knew that Morello, Paul and Simon were right now, together with most of their thugs. They were planning a strike against the Africans, Phil knew that, and they waited for him. He could hear the first gunshots and was ready to fight. One of the guys, Valentino, shot at April and Phil didn't hesitate. He shot him, stepped over his dead body to get in position to go against the next one.

Three minutes later it was over. Most of Morello's guys were dead or cuffed and Phil aimed at the guy himself right now.

“Come on, Dario. Give me a reason.” He glared at the older man and stepped up to him. 

“Phil. So, you have been the traitor.” Dario looked at him and lifted his hands, slowly.

“Yes, Dario. It was me. All the time. All the deals called off, all the freed _merchandise_ , it was always me.” He waited till April was with him and pointed at Morello as well before he put his gun away and grabbed his cuffs.

“Three years. Do you know how glad I am that I don't have to see you on a daily base anymore?” He closed the first cuff around Morello's wrist as tight as possible. The guy's wince was music in his ears and he fastened the second cuff as tight as the first around his other wrist.

“Dario Morello, you are under arrest. Don't ask me about your rights. You don't have anyone. And do you know why? Because we are not the police. You have only one right, to rot in a dark and filthy cell somewhere, where no one will ever search for you.” He handed the man with a sigh to the two Agents waiting outside.

“Sounds like a substantial quantity of frustration.” Agent Slono grinned and patted Phil's shoulder.

“You heard anything about the other teams?” Phil asked and leaned against the conference table in the room.

“Yes. They have everyone.” 

“Good. Then it's over.” Phil wiped over his eyes and looked at his contact person for the last three years. “We're done, April,” he smiled. “We're done.”

“Yes. And now, you go home. Go to bed.” Slono said. “I'll talk to Director Osbourne.” 

“Okay. Thanks.” He couldn't repress a yawn any longer. All the adrenaline left his body and he was tired to death right now. 

Phil went out of the building and saw all the Agents doing their job, arresting evil guys, preserving evidence, securing the building. He yawned again.

He waved one of the junior agents over to him. “Agent...” he couldn't remember his name.

“Sitwell, sir.” The young man said.

“Agent Sitwell, grab a car. You have to drive me.” 

“Yes, sir.” The younger man left and Phil followed him slowly. Agent Slono once again nodded in his direction when she saw him waiting for Sitwell and grinned, when he finally climbed onto the passenger's seat. 

“Where to?” the young Agent asked and Phil gave him his address. 

 

When he opened the door he sensed immediately that something was wrong. It was too quiet. 

He found his usual plate with sandwiches in the kitchen but beside the plate was a bunch of keys with a 'Green Arrow' key chain. Clint's keys. 

“Clint?” Phil yelled but got no answer. He went over to the boy's room and wanted to knock at his door but it was open. He saw the bed untouched, the closet open and Clint's duffel bag and a few of the better clothes were gone. 

Phil took his cell and called Clint's number but he heard it ring in this room. He left it behind.

“Crap!” He muttered and sat down at the bed. 

Clint was gone.


	25. Chapter 25

“I have to leave right now, Rachel.” Clint said when he called her. “Something bad is happening and I don't want to get dragged in. I guess the cops are going to arrest Phil and when they find me...” Phil left an hour ago and was really upset.

“Okay, I can get my dad's car and come for you.” 

“You would do that?” 

“Of course. I've told you that's what friends are for.” 

“Thanks! Really, Rachel.” 

“Give me your address and I'll be there.” Clint gave her the address and the number of the apartment and ended the call. 

This morning Phil had said something about cops and jail and getting arrested to someone at the phone and Clint was in panic since then. He knew that Phil dealt with Barney, Buck and Jacques and despite the fact that he didn't knew exactly what they were doing, he knew that it was absolutely illegal and when Phil was involved in their business, then he, Clint, wouldn't want to be found in his apartment. 

He had everything he needed to leave here. His new ID, Quinn Morrison was his name now, money, a new prepaid phone, two jeans, the cool, purple shirt, a few other shirts, socks, underwear, a hoodie, toothbrush, toothpaste, a comb, the leather jacket and his mp3-player, his AC/DC cushion and his Ka-Bar. He put the things in his duffel bag and then he took his cell, programmed the number from Rachel's new prepaid phone in his new cell and placed the old one on the nightstand. 

When he was ready and sat in the living room to wait for Rachel he remembered his new ritual and mechanically he went to the kitchen and prepared a plate full of sandwiches for Phil. He wasn't sure if he would come back to eat them but you could never know. He wanted to leave the kitchen, then turned and placed his keys beside the plate for Phil to find them.

That moment someone rang at the door and Clint turned off the lights and left the apartment. _Good bye, Phil,_ he thought. _Maybe, if things have been different..._

He called the elevator and drove down to find Rachel in her father's BMW E60 M5. 

“Wow, that's a cool car.” Clint whistled when he climbed onto the passenger's seat.

“Yeah, my dad loves German cars.” She pulled out into traffic and drove a few minutes quietly. 

“So, where do you intend to go?” 

“I... I don't know.” He shrugged. “I thought I could take the first bus leaving New York.”

“Okay.” She sounded strange. 

“Rachel, you okay?” Clint asked and looked over at the girl.

“No, Clint. I'm not okay. I... I'm gonna lose a friend. What do you think?”

“Hey, you're not gonna lose me. I'll call you every day. Promise. And maybe in a few months I can come back.” 

“Yeah, I know. But I still hate it.” She said and threw a sideglance at Clint.

“I don't like it myself but I don't want to go to jail for something my idiotic brother or my criminal husband have done.” His voice sounded strangled. 

“I understant that, Clint. But... you're so different from all the idiots in my class. It's... you're a real friend and now...” Clint saw a tear in her eyes. 

“I'll come back.” She parked at the bus station and got out of the car as well as Clint.

“So, we're here,” she said and looked at her feet right now. 

“Thank you, Rachel. For everything. I owe you so much.” 

“Please, come back soon. And... you know... keep well...” Clint put his duffel bag onto the floor and stepped up to her to hug her and she held him as if her life depended on it. 

“I promised you to come back. And I'll call you every day.”

“Yeah. And now go, you have a bus to get.” 

“Bye, Rachel. And once again, thank you.” He took his bag and before he entered the station, he waved at her and smiled. 

With a sigh he went to buy a ticket. 

“Where to?” the man asked him and Clint shrugged. 

“Where does the next bus go to?” He asked and the man looked at his list.

“Chicago.” 

“A single ticket, please,” Clint said. 

Thirty minutes later he sat in the bus to Chicago and when he saw New York disappear slowly he leaned back and smiled. 

He was free.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, finally done... ;)  
> Thanks for reading, for the comments and kudos... I hope you enjoyed it...

**Author's Note:**

> [asamandra on tumblr](http://asamandra.tumblr.com/)


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